Lonely as the Moon
by Riveting Red Pants
Summary: The tale of Crowley and Juliet the hellhound, the only best friend Crowley will ever have.


**Shhh . . . I know, updates for So You Think You Can Destiel Part Two are coming soon! I promise! I just got this idea at like four in the morning and I figured it was a cute short little drabble that could break a few hearts, so I decided why not? By the way, if anyone is interested in being a beta for me, please let me know! I've never used one before and I thought I'd give it a shot. :) **

**Lonely as the Moon**

Crowley remembered when he first got Juliet. He had gone to the kennel and seen all the other pups running about, playing, tearing their prey apart. But Juliet was different. When he walked into the kennel, the power radiating off of him scared away the other pups. But not Juliet. She came running up to him, snout high in the air, tail wagging proudly. He pet her and knew instantly she was his. He raised her like she was the daughter he would never allow himself to love. He bought her a diamond studded collar that she flaunted proudly, as if she knew how much it was worth, she probably did. Juliet was a . . . different name for a hellhound. Most hellhounds were named something intimidating. Lethal or Thunder or Dean. But no. Crowley had chosen Juliet. He had been on a Shakespeare kick at the time, he would never admit it to another soul, but he enjoyed the bard. People scoffed at the name for his pet, but he simply ignored them, or had Juliet rip out their throats. What was more powerful than a girl willing to give her life rather than live in a world without her true love?

Juliet grew to become obedient and menacing. Crowley took good care of her, kept her on the best diet possible. She grew larger than most other hellhounds, until she reached Crowley's collarbone. He would walk beside her, through the gray smokey ruin of his kingdom, his hand on her shoulder, feeling it move fluidly underneath her silky black fur.

Crowley would never admit this to anyone aloud, but being a human left marks on a man. Crowley had seen his fair share of shit, and caused his fair share of it as well. He saw Sam and Dean and the lengths they would go for each other, even Castiel, the bumbling idiot felt something Crowley himself had never had. Love. It made perfect sense that he traded his soul for something he thought would help him acquire love. But the demon who made the deal with him failed to mention one thing. Love didn't come from the size of one's junk, but from the size of one's heart. And Crowley was lacking in the heart department. If he had known that _compassion _is what caused love, he might've tried that instead.

But here he was. Eternal damnation, he thought, walking beside the only real friend he'd ever had. It wasn't so bad. Sure, being the king of hell wasn't all scotch and crumpets. It was hard work sometimes. The demons running around him were all morons, and Crowley at times felt like the babysitter of the world's most chaotic daycare. But the job came with it's perks. Like his room. He walked into it now, holding the door open for Juliet, who ran to the big plush bed he'd had made especially for the two of them so that she could sleep at his feet. He smiled as she jumped up onto the bed, tail wagging, and barked. Her bark made things in the room, tapestries he had hanging up, papers he had on his desk, go flying. He held a hand out to her and she shoved her nose into it.

"That's a good girl. Good girl." He pet her, climbing into bed with her and rubbing her tummy when she rolled over for him, smiling up at him with her large jowls pulled back and her sharp fangs bared in happiness. Crowley was happy too, really and truly happy. In this world of isolation and-, well, hell, at least he had one friend to bark away the loneliness. Let the Winchesters keep their trench coat wrapped angel, he had Juliet.

Crowley remembered the day he found out Moose Winchester had killed his beloved pet. He had to put on a front about it, of course. He couldn't be seen weeping in public. He snapped his fingers, instantly acquiring what remained of her body and then he stood, somewhere in Scotland. He was on a hilltop with the remains of his beloved pet, overlooking the ocean. He couldn't find it in himself to cry, didn't remember the last time he had cried. He got a shovel and he started to dig, by himself. He could've just as easily used his powers to zap a hole into existence, but he didn't want to. There was something oddly ceremonial about it all, about the repetition of digging. Juliet was bigger than a regular dog, obviously, so this took some time. But when Crowley was done he clambered up out of the hole he had dug and knelt down on the green green grass beside his poor, sweet girl. He pet her head one last time, and looked around at the countryside.

"I never brought you here, girl. I hated this place, the place where I was a human. You never knew me then. Probably wouldn't have even liked me. I wasn't as powerful, that's why we worked so well together, you and I. Because we were powerful together." He ruffled her ears in the way she liked. "I will miss you, love. More than you know . . . you were . . . my friend. My only friend, Juliet. And I can't thank you enough for that." He spoke in low whispers, allowing the damp wind around him to carry his words and scatter them to the wind. He couldn't bring himself to dump her body into the pit he had dug and hear the thud and crunch of dead tissue slamming into its final resting place. So he used his powers to lift up her corpse and place it gently in the pit. He started to shovel the dirt over her, and kept shoveling until the hole was filled again and the full moon hung high over the ocean. He looked up at it, alone in the sky, thinking of how alike he and the moon were. The moon got to watch human interaction, but never be apart of it. The moon was large and bright and beautiful, but alone in its beauty. Forever alone in the cold blackness. He sighed and threw down the shovel, leaving nothing to mark his Juliet's gravestone but one thing, a diamond studded collar.

**Soooo I'm pretty sure Sam didn't actually kill Juliet the hellhound, but let's just pretend for the sake of sadness and whatnot. **


End file.
